


The Coldness of the Steering Wheel, the Warmth of her Hands

by Silveriss



Category: Original Work
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, F/F, Family, Friendship, Homophobia, Hurt/Comfort, Jo is non-binary, Love, Mutual Support, One-Shot, Some fluff too, Sylvia is deaf
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-08
Updated: 2016-08-08
Packaged: 2018-08-07 11:27:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7713235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silveriss/pseuds/Silveriss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Street lights flashing around me. Fading into the night. I turn and look out the window. Everything's a blur.<br/>My fingers grip the steering wheel until it hurts, clinging to it as if I would lose myself if I were to let go.<br/>My cheeks and neck are wet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Coldness of the Steering Wheel, the Warmth of her Hands

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, there!
> 
> Wow, I really am inspired lately! A new one-shot already? And more than 1k words? Woah.  
> This one's a bit angsty and deals with homophobia, so be prepared if you're sensitive about this topic. It's only about how the character feels about it, theres no real description of the scene, but better safe than sorry!
> 
> I hope you'll enjoy it ~

Street lights flashing around me. Fading into the night. I turn and look out the window.  
Everything's a blur.  
"It's the speed", I tell myself, because I'm stubborn. "It's blurry because of the speed."  
My fingers grip the steering wheel until it hurts, clinging to it as if I would lose myself if I were to let go.  
I push my foot, hard onto the pedal, and I hear a screech. The mumbling of the engine stops.  
Everything is blurry, and it's not because of the speed.  
My cheeks and neck are wet.  
I sag, sobbing, finally giving in to the pain. My forehead rests against the wheel and my hands stay where they are, clutching the plastic.  
My blood is crying.

_"You don't belong here!"_

He's right. I don't. I never did.  
A part of me used to, but it was never my whole. I always had to leave some pieces of me behind when I walked through his door.  
I only realizes now that I was never welcome near him, not as myself. And it hurts.

Family seemed to held some magic inside its letters when I was younger. It was a precious word, one to be cherished and handled with care. It was a warmth within me, surrounding me. It was flowing in my veins since even before the day I had come to life.  
Family was an everything so obvious I used to take it for granted.

I remember when we were young, and he used to share his little cars with me. I liked the blue one best, and he would always take the purple one. He used to let me win some of our races until I beat him when he was serious. He was so mad at first, but then he just laughed and hugged me really hard, and told me I was a big girl now. He told me he was proud of me.  
I remember the loving look he gave me then, and I see the hate when he yelled at me and kicked me out of his apartment.  
He shot a hole into my heart and ripped whatever linked him to me with his words.  
My older brother. My big bro. My own blood. My family.  
Disgusted by something I will never be able to stop being.  
I think I'm mourning.

I try to calm down. I have to calm down. I still have more driving to do, and I can't drive if I'm in tears.  
I'm a big girl and I can do this.

I remember my parents' faces when I told them I liked girls.  
Mom looked shocked and uneasy, but dad was smiling, and he hugged me. He told me they would always love me, and that who I loved or would love changed nothing. He told me love was a wonderful thing and that he was honored I had braved my fears to tell them.  
When he let me go, mom grabbed my hand. I looked into her eyes and I knew she was going to need time. But she took the time. And now she's fine with it, as long as I don't "bring it up too much".

I let out a ragged sigh and let go of the wheel, arms hanging down lifelessly. I close my eyes and focus on the feeling of the wheel against my skin.

I think about Jo's smile when I told them, and the way they were always here to cheer me up.  
I think about my best friend Amir's warm hugs, and how he shines with love sometimes.  
I think about Sylvia's heart beat and her golden skin, and how when she laughs time stops, and I think about her eyes and lips and clever puns. I think about her curves and moles, and how soft her belly is. I think about her optimism and will to see only the best in life, and I think about all the times she made me laugh. I think about how the way she signs when she's happy means the world to me.  
I think about the first time I said "I like you", and I think about the last time I signed "I'm in love with you".

I think about my parents, my friends, and my love. The relationships I helped grow and bloom, the people who stayed and supported me no matter what I was going through.  
I think about all of them, and I mourn one of them.

Family as I saw it when I was younger isn't magic anymore. It isn't something eternal and stronger than anything, nor does it protect me from every monster I encounter. Family is a word for the people I share my blood with, and nothing else.  
I think the child I was said family when she meant love

My eyes are not crying anymore, even though my heart is still mourning. It will probably hurt for a long time. But I'll get over it.  
I wipe my cheeks and start the car again. The engine hums back to life. I switch on the radio in the middle of one of Bowie's last songs, I can't remember the name. I smile.

When I face our front door, I don't pull my key out of my jeans' pocket. I just ring the bell. Inside, I know, a light turns on and blinks a few times.  
At the thought that my brother has never put a toe in our apartment, I feel a burn rising to my eyes. I thought I'd shed all the tears I had in me twenty minutes ago. I don't want her to see me this way.  
I'm angrily wiping at my eyes when Sylvia opens the door, and she immediately reaches up to catch my hands. The touch of her skin makes me shiver. I sniff the tears back in and she frowns, freeing my hands to cup my cheeks instead. They're warm, her hands. Warmer than the plastic of the steering wheel.  
I look down at her bare feet, fighting against the salted water swelling up in my eyes, but she tilts my chin and I find myself engrossed in her eyes. I cover her hands with mine and I cling to her, shoulders sagging as a sob struggles out of my trembling lips. She brings my head lower and leans her forehead against mine tenderly, and suddenly all my walls are breaking down and I'm crying in her warmth.

It doesn't last as long as in the car, and after a little while I'm breathing normally again. Water is trickling down my cheeks in a soothing flow. Sylvia wipes it with her thumbs and smiles.  
She signs: "You don't have to cry alone."  
I sign: "Thank you."  
She kisses my hand and I laugh.  
I take off my coat and the knitted scarf Amir made me for my birthday. Sylvia takes my hand as soon as I'm done hanging them. I smile a sad little smile at her, and she smiles back.  
It's not enough to make me forget my pain, but it's enough to make it more bearable.  
Because I don't have to mourn alone.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it!  
> Please consider writing me a li'l (or long, your pick) review to let me know what you think of this OS of mine, I'd love you forever. ;D
> 
> Have a beautiful day ~


End file.
